


Hush, Little Mortal

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Thor (2011), Thor (2011) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: norsekink, Frottage, M/M, Norse gods sharing their mortal toy, Other, Plot What Plot, They have internet in Asgard, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a) Tom never should haven gotten a Twitter, b) Loki has way too much fun and c) Thor likes to play along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush, Little Mortal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/6420.html?thread=12685332#t12685332) Norsekink prompt. Can also be found at my [tumblr.](http://ange-de-la-mort.tumblr.com/post/15733252018/hush-little-mortal)

It had all begun with a scavenger hunt.  
  
No, that wasn’t exactly right. It had all begun with twitter. Really, he never should have gotten an account. He had been bugged about it by his manager (“You have to stay in touch with the fans!”, “You’re the hot stuff now!”, “They want to know what you’re doing!”) until he had finally given in and registered on the site.  
  
Soon enough, the messages had come. Most of them were nice and flattering and made him smile and wish he had the time to answer them all, to thank each of his fans for supporting him. Some were strange or inappropriate or tinted with way too much information. And some were …  
  
“@godofbadassery?”  
Tom had laughed about that, finding it truly fitting, and had watched the account.  
  
During the next few weeks, he had always looked forward to opening his laptop and accessing to the site. He’d had to admit that he’d been amused and impressed by this ‘Loki’, because whoever they were, they had a really good grasp of how to impersonate Loki’s personality and the kind of jokes and pranks and mischief Tom believed to be absolutely fitting.  
  
They had talked a few times (if you can call ‘splitting up every few sentences into different tweets and cursing at the fact you can only use 140 letters a tweet’ talking). About a lot of things. Nothing personal. Just … a few movie quotes, some tidbits of Loki’s characterisation, stuff like that.  
  
And then he or she had announced the idea of a scavenger hunt in New York city during the ‘War Horse’ premiere.  
  
And Tom had said that they could meet there, hang out, have a beer or two.  
  
And … he definitely never should have gotten a twitter account.  
  
  
  
He didn’t even notice the presence behind him at first. He was getting tired and worn out and really, if you’ve ever been to one premiere, you know the procedure: The long walk over the red carpet, always pausing and waiting for the press to take a million of pictures of you. After some time, his smile had faded away and become more of a grimace, his eyes had lost their spark and he’d had to keep himself from yawning. He yearned for his bed.  
  
So, he didn’t notice that someone was behind him. Only when she said his name - at least twice -, he turned around and looked at a young woman.  
“Can I help you?,”  he asked when he really meant to say: “Are you a fan? How did you get past the security?”  
  
The woman smiled. “I am @godofbadassery.”  
  
“Oh,” Tom said and blinked, giving her a closer look. She was … plain. Smaller than him with dark hair that was pulled into a ponytail, which made her appear younger than she seemed to be. He didn’t know what he had expected, but … this wasn’t it. It was unfair to feel disappointed, but he couldn’t help it. Even though he knew it would be impossible, he had hoped against hope that maybe …  
  
“Oh?” She grinned, showing pearl-white teeth. “Not what you had in mind?”  
  
Quickly, he opened his mouth and wanted to apologize for being rude, wanted to say that he was happy to meet her - but he couldn’t find the words when she looked at him with bright green eyes - eyes he remembered, eyes he had always seen in the mirror when he had worn contacts - and with a flick of her wrist she began to shift shapes in front of him.  
Fluently, languidly, she grew taller while her hair turned black and lost a few inches. He could see her face change as well as her clothes (it happened fast, so fast he would have missed it if he had even blinked); and then he could see a man he’d never believed to see in his life.  
  
“Is this better?,” the man asked in a voice that was so much like Tom’s own.  
  
This was the moment when he finally remembered to close his mouth. But just for a second. “You are … you can’t be … how?”  
  
Loki straightened his clothes (black pants and vest with a dark-green dress shirt that matched the colour of his eyes) and cocked his head first to one side, then to the other. “How about you and I go to the nearest bar? You look like you could need a drink.” A black coat appeared in his hands, and finally, Tom managed to form a complete sentence:  
  
“You have internet in Asgard?”  
  
(Only when Loki laughed - about him, not at him - Tom realized that - whatever could come to the mind of a mere mortal when faced with a shape-shifting god - this must have been the dumbest question ever asked in the history of mankind.)  
  
  
  
A drink sounded good. A couple of drinks sounded even better. After all, it didn’t happen every day that he met somebody he believed to be a myth. “What are you doing here?” he asked and turned his head to the man sitting next to him (they had found a nice, little café that was scarcely illuminated and where nobody would even bat an eye at them).  
  
“You wanted to meet me,” Loki said with a smile as he took a sip of steaming hot mead and made a pleased sound.  
  
“No. Not you. I wanted to meet -“  
  
“Thomas,” Loki interrupted calmly, “there are at least a dozen interviews with you saying you wish to meet me. So, don’t try to lie to the god of lies. Really, I thought you’d be more intelligent.”  
  
“But I … I didn’t think you even existed! I … wait, why are you watching my interviews?”  
  
“I have to make sure you bring me no shame,” Loki said as if it were the most normal thing in the world (and who knew? For him, it might as well be). “Also … I believe I need to criticize your acting. Could you maybe settle for less crying and more mayhem and mischief? Not that you don’t look pretty when you cry … “  
  
Tom decided that it would be better to just not comment on this. Even if he’d really liked to tell Loki that he couldn’t just change the script and what the directors told him to do. Instead, he simply gave a heavy sigh and raised his hand to waive the waitress over. Really, he needed another glass of red wine.  
  
But Loki reached out, curling a hand around Tom’s wrist. When Tom shot him a questioning look, he smiled and said: “Enough with your grape juice. You will drink mead with me like any reasonable adult should do.”  
  
Since there was no way Tom would argue about reason and who possessed it and who didn’t (hint: Gods of mischief were normally not known for being reasonable), he simply complied and - a few moments later - looked warily at the cup. To be honest, he’d never understood why mead was supposed to be the drink of the gods. “It smells like something died in there.”  
  
“All the more reason to be glad that you don’t sniff it, but drink it,” Loki said with a chuckle.  
  
The taste wasn’t that good, either. Really. It was hot and bitter on the tip of his tongue, sickeningly sweet on the roof of his mouth, and when he swallowed, it burned in his throat.  
  
He must have made a face, for Loki looked at him and said: “The more you drink, the better it tastes.”  
  
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want to make me drunk.”  
  
There was a glimmer of amusement in Loki’s eyes. “Then, it is good that you do know better, right?”  
  
Well … yes. It was reassurig, to say the very least, because it most likely meant that Loki was not going to wait until Tom would be too drunk to even walk straight and then throw him out of a window or sew his lips shut or whatever Norse gods did when they felt bored and mischievous. Also, it was a good reason to order another drink. Or two.  
  
In the meantime, he listened to Loki’s ramblings about the differences between Asgard and Midgard. “There are a handful of innovations which might prove themselves useful to my interests.”  
  
“Nuclear weapons?” Tom guessed out loud.  
  
“What? No.” Loki made a throwaway gesture and shook his head with a sigh. “Don’t be stupid, Thomas. Don’t be … disappointingly dumb. I was just starting to think highly of you.”  
  
Was this something to be happy about or not? Did he even want to know?  
  
“Then what … ?”  
  
“Cars. For example. Not as fast as teleportation or bending space and time, but faster than even the greatest of stallions. Except for Sleipnir, maybe,” he added as an afterthought. “Also, I find Starbucks to be quite enjoyable.” When Tom snorted at the thought of Loki standing in line and ordering a frappuccino, Loki shot him a nasty look and huffed. “Well, of course today’s visit is solely because of you.”  
  
“Because of me?” Tom echoed and turned his head to look at the man, intending to ask what he meant, and to check whether or not he was in danger of being turned into a toad (no, wait, that came from a fairy tale).  
  
He wasn’t even able to utter a single word, simply because every reasonable thought died in his brain as Loki leaned forward and kissed him.  
  
When their lips met, he almost expected Loki to taste like ice and fire, like storm and wisdom itself. Instead, Tom only cought the taste of mead on the tip of his tongue - which was even more fitting, for it tasted as bittersweet as Loki’s life had been.  
  
As embarassing as it was to admit, he needed a couple of seconds to catch his breath when Loki released him and looked at him with calm amusement (but maybe, inwardly, he was dieing from laughter. Who could tell?). “You came all this way to kiss me?”  
  
“I’ve come to do so much more to you,” Loki whispered into his ear and placed a hand on Tom’s chest, “if you let me.”  
  
“I … ,” he began without knowing what to say next. It seemed like words failed him. Maybe because this situation was just so absurd - or maybe because slender fingers were toying with the buttons of his shirt and occasionly brushing over bare skin, making him shiver ever so slightly. “I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this.”  
  
Half an hour later, he was. He let Loki lead him out of the bar and push him to the nearest wall. He let his lips be claimed again and again, teeth and tongues meeting. He ran one hand through Loki’s hair - silkenly smooth and annoyingly straight, he noticed with a pang of jealousy -, brushed it out of his face.  
  
Green eyes stared into Tom’s own as Loki asked the one question any sane person would answer with ‘Heck no, get away from me!’  
  
But Tom was neither sane nor sober, so he just nodded and said: “Yes. I trust you.”  
  
A second later the air around him seemed to blur and change and rearrange itself. Another second later, they were no longer in a dark alley, but in Tom’s very own and very well-lit hotel room.  
  
And they were not alone.  
  
When Tom got aware of the blond man who was sitting on his bed (and smiling so friendly it was almost scary), he blinked once, twice. And when he realized that this was definitely not his buddy Chris, but rather the other half of the package that came when one said ‘Yes’ to a certain god of ‘I will fuck with your head and make you like it’, he shot an unsure and confused look at Loki.  
  
The smile he got in return was two parts deviant and one part devilish. “It appears that something had slipped my mind.” He leanded forward, his lips brushing Tom’s ear as he whispered. “Brothers always share their toys.”  
  
“I …,” he started without even knowing what to say at all. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’ maybe, or ‘I don’t want this. Get out.’, or even ‘I am really not drunk enough for a threesome’. Quite contrary, he felt like sobering up with every passing second.  
  
A sigh escaped Loki’s lips and there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth as he reached out and took Tom’s hands into his own, looking sternly at him. “You said you’d trust me. I do not intend to break that trust. Not now. Not ever. I promise.”  
  
Now, one might ask themselves how reliable a promise was when it came from the god of lies, who was known for suffering from chronic backstabbing disorder, but the way he stroke a thumb over the back of Tom’s hand and the way there was honesty shining in his eyes - whether faked or not - made it hard not to nod and smile warily. Taking a deep - and only a little shaking - breath, he reached out to lay one hand onto Loki’s chest (only to start the whole ordeal, of course. Not because he felt his knees go weak a little, no sir, no way). He knew he was being watched, not only by the man in front of him, but also by the man who was so patiently waiting on Tom’s bed, which did not exactly make it easier for him to calm himself.  
  
But here he was. And here he could feel the rise and fall of Loki’s chest under his fingertips, could feel his heartbeat. And - maybe, just maybe, most likely he was imagining things -he thought he noticed Loki’s pulse going quicker as Tom circled one of the buttons with a finger before he finally found the courage to open his shirt completely, one button after another, revealing cream-white skin.  
  
Loki grinned and cocked his head to one side as if he wanted to say: “Do you like what you see?”  
  
At which Tom rolled his eyes, because, really, how could he tell? There wasn’t much to see. Not yet. And that was reason enough to simply capture Loki’s lips in another kiss. This one was more teeth and less tongue, with Tom nibbling and Loki biting, drawing gasps and hisses out of Tom’s mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss while his hands found Loki’s skin, stroking over his flanks, over warm and lean and muscled skin. Then higher, over his chest, brushing his nipples with his thumbs - and Loki shivered against him and fisted a hand in Tom’s curls, pulling threateningly before sliding down to loose Tom’s bow tie. It was his cue to relieve Loki of his clothing. Coat and shirt alike slid down his shoulders and - with a muffled sound - landed on the floor. He could hear Loki chuckle, could feel it against his lips, and gasped in surprise when two arms wrapped themselves around him from behind. He hadn’t even noticed Thor standing up and walking over (he hadn’t really noticed much today. However, this he blamed on the alcohol.)  
  
“It’s hardly fair,” a voice he’d only ever thought of as roaring whispered into his ear, brushing his lips against against it and tickling Tom with his beard, “if my brother is the only one stripped, do you not agree?”  
  
Tom wasn’t sure if he agreed or not, but it was obvious that the question was of the rhetorical kind. His shirt was opened, his pants as well. Thor’s hands caressed his face and chest. Fingers found his nipples, circled around them, drawing gasps and shivers out of him. When Loki’s hands travelled down and his fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts, Tom could feel his face flush crimson red. For a moment, he thought of protesting, but then he was already relieved of his underwear. Of course, he knew it was a sign of their dominance over him that he was the only one completey naked. It told him he wouldn’t get away anymore. Well, but honestly, he didn’t want to anyway.  
  
Instead, he let Thor take his hand and lead him to the bed while Loki bent down to pick his clothes up and fold them neatly on the nearest chair, before joining them.  
  
Thor pulled Tom onto his lap and into a kiss, and even though Tom was more than nervous, he couldn’t help but notice the differences between the brothers: Where Loki was greedy and thinking of himself, Thor was giving in. He was kissing Tom gently, all licking and sucking and careful nibbling, neither fierce nor forceful. Where Loki was fast and biting like wind and storm, Thor was calm and peaceful, the polar opposite, the light to Loki’s darkness.  
  
Apropos Loki … Loki knelt down behind Tom and clawed at his back, making him break the kiss with Thor and yell in surprise and pain. “I don’t like to be ignored,” he said (and Tom could feel him smile and grin) and carefully caressed the marks he left on Tom’s skin. “I will make sure you won’t ignore me any longer.”  
  
“I wasn’t … “  
  
“What did I tell you about lying? You were ignoring me, Thomas. It’s alright, though. My dearest brother has this effect on people.” At this, Thor smiled indulgently and quietly shook his head. Loki only chuckled and hugged Tom from behind, kissing the back of his neck.  
  
Tom made a pleased sound and closed his eyes as Loki’s fingers toyed with his nipples, pinching and pulling and twisting ever so slightly. It didn’t take long until he was shuddering and moaning loudly, and hid his face in the crook of Thor’s neck to muffle his sounds and hide his flushed face.  
  
Thor’s laugh was rumbling. “He’s so different from you, brother. So loud.” He wrapped a hands around Tom’s cock, stroking it languidly. When Tom moaned and grasped Thor’s shirt, twisting the fabric between his fingers, he laughed again. “I like him.”  
  
“I hope you don’t like him more than you like me.” Did he imagine it or was there a pout in Loki’s voice?  
  
One of Thor’s hands resumed to teasing Tom’s cock and balls and the other one reached out for Loki, caressed his cheek. Tom could see the brothers share a look of pure and unadulterated trust. Then they shared a kiss. To Tom, it felt almost like he was invading their privacy, as if he was watching something way to intimate. But, well … it wasn’t like they hadn’t invaded his privacy before, right? Not when Thor’s hand moved up and down on Tom’s shaft, not when Tom was gasping and moaning and bucking his hips, arching into the touch. Not when … not … wait, why was there a hand on his ass? Were those fingers on his … oh God, yes, there were. “Loki, I … ” His breath hitched in his throat as Loki laughed quietly.  
  
“Trust me,” he said and pressed two fingertips that were slick with some kind of oil inside him.  
  
He clawed at Thor’s shirt, whimpering and arching into both touches. It was a strange, foreign feeling of being absolutely helpless, being stripped bare inside and outside. Whenever Loki curled his fingers, Tom yelped and whimpered. His lips were claimed by Thor again and he groaned, running his hands trough Thor’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Thor’s lips parted in a smile as Tom went to open his pants to pull his cock out and stroke it in the same rhythm Loki’s fingers held as they slid in and out of him. His hands were shaking, his breath hitching in his throat. There were tears in his eyes as he rocked back onto the fingers, trying to push them deeper, to fill him out even more.  
  
“So greedy,” Loki murmured into his ear and bit down on his earlobe. “I really like you, Thomas.” Loki curled his fingers again and reached a point deep inside Tom that made him cry out in pleasure and arch his back. “And I see you like me as well.”  
  
“Ah … “  
  
“Is that a ‘yes’?”  
  
“God … ,” Tom gasped breathlessly and Thor grinned and said that yes, that was actually the case for they were gods, but Tom was allowed to call them Thor and Loki (and well, somebody had to make the joke for it was awfully obvius).  
  
Loki finally withdrew his fingers, gave Toms shoulder a harsh bite and spread his cheeks to enter him completely and - after only a few seconds - thrust his cock hard into him.  
  
Again, Tom screamed in pleasure and darted forwards to kiss Thor, to claim and bruise his mouth. He had never known this feeling before, had never known how good it felt to be fucked and taken with hands diggind into his hips,his chest, abusing his nipples, while Loki slammed into him, finding and torturing his prostate with every thrust. Things were whispered - no, snarled - into his ear and no matter how much he tried, he could not understand the meaning behind them for his brain was no longer able to perform even the easiest of tasks. And even if it were, he wouldn’t even hear anything over the sound of his own moaning.  
  
It was hot in his room with those two bodies pressed against him closely, their hot breath ghosting over his skin. Sweat was running down his forehead and dripping into his eyes. His hair was sticking flatly to his skull. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight, could only be used and abused and taken and touched everywhere. He was sobbing now, begging and stammering without even knowing what he was saying.  
  
It didn’t take long for him to break and until his head was spinning and he was climaxing harder than he’d ever had before. It didn’t take long for them to follow (Thor came with a deep and throaty moan, Loki was almost silent if not for the audible intake of breath as he spilled his seed into Tom).  
  
He had closed his eyes and leaned against Thor’s broad chest, tried to catch his breath.  
  
“Don’t say you are already tired,” Loki said with a laugh. “We have all night. And we intend to take our time with you.”  
  
For some reason, Tom was very sure he would not survive this night. They proved him very, very wrong.  
  
  
He remembered falling asleep between Thor and Loki, remembered a hand stroking trough his hair, remembered being hugged. A blanket was draped over them. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and snuggled up against Thor’s chest.  
  
Tom could feel how Loki buried his nose in his hair, could feel his breath on his skin. “Good night, Thomas. Sleep well.”  
  
And he did.  
  
When he awoke again, he was alone. No trace to be seen from either of them. For an instant, he believed he’d dreamed, but then he tried to move and felt sore and aching and wonderfully relaxed at the same time. With a sigh, he sat up und groaned at the ache in certain parts of his body. Well, there wouldn’t be much moving today. Maybe a shower. No, wait … he was sticky and sweaty. Definitely a shower.  
  
He returned some time later, wrapped in a bathrobe - and was just starting to get dressed, as his eyes fell on a slip of paper that was lying on the bedside table. With a confused look on his face, he picked it up.  
  
 _We should repeat this_ , read the note in small, eloquent handwriting. _Also, you should know that this is so going on twitter. ~ L_  
  
Tom had to blink a few times until he understood what Loki wanted to tell him. Then he cursed and jerked his laptop out of his bag, opening it and logging onto the website.  
  
“Oh, fuck you!” he said out loud and groaned and hid his face in his hands.  
  
 _Met @twhiddleston in person last night. Nice fellow, though he snores. Loudly. #NoIWontTellYouWhyIKnowThis #ButYouCanGuess_  
  
 _Also, if anyone wants to see @twhiddleston while sleeping, I posted some pictures on tumblr. Naked, sleeping mortal is naked. And sleeping._  
  
He really wasn’t drunk enough for this.


End file.
